


Services Rendered

by Dracos_tealsuit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Harry, Complete, Confusion, Embarrassment, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, M/M, POV Alternating, Post-Hogwarts, Rentboy Draco Malfoy, Rentboys, Smut, Top Draco Malfoy, kind of a rentboy but not really, mentions of past harry potter with others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracos_tealsuit/pseuds/Dracos_tealsuit
Summary: Gemini Service is a new business that sends Look-Alike rentboys to you with just the flick of a coin!For Harry's birthday, Charlie orders him a Draco Malfoy look alike. Things go a bit sideways when two white-blonde smirking boys show up at Harry's office.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 43
Kudos: 409





	1. Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【德哈-授权翻译】服侍结束](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988184) by [Fayywoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayywoo/pseuds/Fayywoo)



> A quick fun story I couldn't get out of my head. Enjoy :)

**July 31st 2003 - Harry Potter's 23rd Birthday**

The birthday party had been going for hours. It felt like the entire Wizarding World was packed into the Leaky Cauldron. Ron and Hermione had just left and Harry was watching Neville and Hannah expertly handle the bar. Those two had taken the Leaky to new levels since Hannah's father, Tom, had gifted the place to them for their wedding. 

Seamus sidles up to Harry, slumping against him before righting himself. "Everyone is going to the backroom for dancing." The words are punctuated by his body wriggling against Harry’s. Seamus seems to believe the movements are sexy, judging by his leer. Really they are worm-like more than anything.

Harry grins down at him, "How much have you had to drink?"

“If you’re asking me that, you haven’t had enough!” Seamus grabs his wrist pulling him into the back. 

Hannah had enlisted the help of Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini to design the backroom, transforming it from a storage area into a low lit dance club. The room had its own bar, tended by Dean Thomas three nights a week while he was finishing his art degree. 

Once Seamus spots Dean he abandons Harry to focus his efforts on his favorite target. Harry watches them for a moment, hoping tonight is the night that Dean finally realizes Seamus is serious when he asks to be taken home. His eyes drift down the bar and he spots a friendly face. He steps into the throng of writhing bodies to cross the room and reach Charlie Weasley. 

Charlie offers him a drink but Harry declines, showing him the bottle he's already holding. Charlie eyes it skeptically and asks, "Is that water?" 

Harry presses a finger to his own smirking lips before replying. "Don't tell anyone. You know how this lot is. They'll have me blacked out if I let them have any say in how much I drink."

Charlie shrugs, putting the fire whiskey on the bar. "Are you sober then?" 

"No. Just pleasantly tipsy."

"Is this because of what happened in New York?" 

Harry leans against the bar edging in a bit closer to Charlie. "It is. They were all terrible chaperones." 

Two years ago, half the Auror team and a pack of Weasleys had gone across the pond for Harry’s 21st birthday. Harry had been drinking since 1998 but visiting the states for their 'of age' birthday meant free drinks all night. The next day was spent downing potions, sleeping off the hangover, and generally feeling like shit. 

"It wasn't all bad," Charlie replies, his eyes dropping slowly over Harry's tight black t-shirt to the low-slung baggy jeans belted at his hips. 

Heat blooms through Harry, lust pooling in his gut as memories of Charlie's deep voice and rough hands flash through his mind. In New York, everyone had left Harry to recover from his hangover, taking advantage of the trip to go sightseeing. Everyone except for Charlie. 

"I'd much rather relive that part of the trip than the hangover," Harry replies, thinking of how good it felt to let Charlie pin him to the bed with those strong arms. “Shame you brought a date to my birthday party.” 

Charlie chuckles, the rumbling sound coming from deep in his chest. “He’s not my date, Harry, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard that he’s moving to Romania in a few months." They both look out at the dance floor, to watch Charlie's boyfriend, Darius, dancing with Fluer. 

"Should have given me notice before it got serious," Harry says, "I would have snagged one more night with you.” He wouldn't have though, not if Charlie was falling for the bloke. Harry doesn’t have a lot of lines, hasn’t for a while now, but he would never come between two people falling in love. 

Harry, better than most, knows the power of love. 

“I did get you a gift to make up for my absence though. Have you heard of the Gemini service?” 

Harry scrubs a hand over his face before answering. “Yeah. Hermione’s trying to get them shut down. She thinks what they’re doing is immoral.” 

“What do you think?” 

“You know me. As long as it’s consenting adults, I don’t think it’s immoral. Gemini’s business plan is genius. It’s not like they use polyjuice." He shrugs, drinking down another swig from his bottle. "From what I understand they hire people who look somewhat similar, and cast any necessary glamors.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” Charlie presses a silver sickle into the center of Harry’s palm. 

The metal is skin-warm and a zip of excitement runs through Harry. Charlie was one of the best lays he’d ever had, but the Gemini service might be fun enough to make up for the boyfriend. Harry smiles up at Charlie. "How do I use it?" 

“Cast the spell _Par_ on that coin and your boy will show up within the hour.” 

“How do I choose who I want?”

“I already picked the person showing up.”

Harry’s throat goes dry, despite the copious amounts of water he’s been drinking all night. He runs a hand through his hair, causing his messy locks to further dishevel. He peeks up at Charlie through the loose strands that fall over his left eye. 

"Who did you pick?" Harry asks, though he's pretty sure he knows the answer. 

Charlie’s eyes dance, and he leans in closer to say, “Do you remember what you told me when I had you over my knee?” 

"I begged you to tie me to the headboard and fuck me into the mattress." Harry licks his lips, straining to respect Charlie’s relationship rather than dropping to his knees right here in the crowded back room of the Leaky Caldron. 

Charlie bites back a groan. “Before that," he replies, voice low and rough. "When I told you to admit what you were fantasizing about when I caught you wanking in my room." 

Harry looks down at the shiny coin in his hand, closing his fist around it. “I said I was thinking of Malfoy, that I wanted him to bruise my throat with his cock.” 

“Now I can’t get you the real thing, you'll have to do that on your own when you're ready. This guy works exclusively as Draco Malfoy and from what I understand, he’s very good. He was recommended to me by a reliable source.” 

“How do i activate it again?” Harry asks. 

~~~

For the next week Harry stays busy with work. At night, alone in his bed, he thinks about Charlie's gift. He decides against using the coin at home. Number 12 is still unplottable and he thinks it might ruin the fantasy to deal with that. 

Besides, most of his fantasies about Draco have taken place at work, at the Ministry. Harry shares his office with Ron, they've been partners since they made the Auror team. Malfoy works in legal, but he doesn't have an office, he works in the bull pen with a pack of junior lawyers. 

On Wednesday, Harry considered having the rentboy look-alike fuck him at the real Malfoy's desk. But he quickly decided it would be too easy for Malfoy to find out and then Harry would end up at St. Mungos. 

The perfect opportunity to use the coin presented itself on Friday. 

Thursday night, Harry and Ron had worked late, closing a case on a wizard who was caught selling Amortentia to muggles for aromatherapy. The guy had made an absurd amount of money, most of which was now tied up in legal. Consequently, Ron took Friday off to get a start on his weekend with Hermione. Which meant Harry had the office all to himself. 

He went in late in the day, filed the rest of the reports for the case and cleaned off his desk. During a late lunch he showered and changed into his favorite pair of denims -tight and flattering- and a black t-shirt with a golden snitch painted across the chest. 

Now he's sat in his chair, tapping the sickle from Charlie on his desk. Harry's pretty sure everyone else has gone home, it's past 6 on a Friday. Besides, he's checked this floor twice, so he knows the coast is clear. He flips the coin off his thumb, watching it spin and then casts. 

Twenty minutes later there's a knock at the door. Harry jumps from his desk but doesn't move. Hadn't Charlie said it would take an hour? He hopes it's not someone else, he doesn't want any interruptions. 

The knock comes again, followed by, "Potter! Open the door. I'm not going to stand out here all night."

 _Holy hotness_. This guy must have used magic for his voice too. His posh clipped draw is a perfect rendition of Malfoy's. Harry walks around his desk, crossing the short distance, and opens the door. 

The look-alike is perfect. He's the right height, just a few centimeters taller than Harry. His white-blonde hair falls elegantly to his shoulders, with half of it pulled off his face. His eyebrow is cocked and there's a tight frown tugging his lips. His arms are folded around a file and _-Merlin-_ Harry can see a copy of Malfoy's numerous tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of the teal button-down shirt he's wearing. 

"Potter," the look-alike says, "I have a question about one of your witnesses for the hearing on Monday. Now stop gawking and invite me in."

"Fuck." A grin breaks out on Harry's face. "This Gemini place really does their homework."


	2. Paid For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like it <3

Draco gets off the lift and heads to Potter's office. He hates having to ask Potter for help but there's nothing for it. The notes for his witness statement don't make sense. Once he gets this sorted he can leave for the weekend and meet his friends for drinks at whatever muggle club Pansy's picked out. 

Draco knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens. Draco huffs. He knows Potter is still here. The git has to pass the bull pen to leave and Draco never misses him. Because, even though Potter still pisses him off every time they speak, the man cuts a nice figure in his Auror robes. 

Draco knocks again, saying, "Potter! Open the door. I'm not going to stand out here all night."

The door opens but Potter isn't in his robes. Draco's eyes drop over the t-shirt, spread tight across his muscled shoulders, and dark jeans. He almost looks like he's going out to pull. Draco shakes his head to clear it of thoughts he should _not_ be having while at work. 

"Potter," Draco says, noting the way he seems to be staring at Draco's wrist, "I have a question about one of your witnesses for the hearing on Monday. Now stop gawking and invite me in."

"Fuck." A grin breaks out on Potter's face. "This Gemini place really does their homework."

Caught off guard at having that smile directed at him, Draco moves to take a step back, but hesitates when Potter relents, motioning for Draco to step in. As soon as the door is closed, Potter casts a locking charm and a _Mufliato._

Draco drops the file, pulling his wand, in one fluid movement. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

Potter's grin turns feral as he stalks forward. Draco backs up, unwilling to actually cast on the Golden Boy, until his back is against the wall. Potter fists Draco's shirt and pulls him forward into a filthy kiss that has Draco melting against him. 

Warning bells clang through his mind in a panic. The thought _'Shouldn't we talk about this?'_ makes its way through, but it's drowned out by the heat coming off of Potter. Draco's body is all too familiar with the dirty grind of a hook-up, and Potter's got a lot to offer. He finds his hands responding without conscious permission, snaking up the sides of Potter's t-shirt to feel the heated skin on the pads of his fingertips. 

Potter moans into the kiss, his body melting as Draco's hands explore the hard planes of his chest. "Yes. Fuck," Potter says. "I don't know what he paid for you, but you're worth every galleon."

Draco pulls back. "Paid for?" he asks, completely lost when Potter chuckles at the question. 

"Right," Potter says, "You don't want to break character." 

Before Draco can ask what the fuck that means, Potter's leg slides between Draco's and nudges his thighs apart. With the thick press of Potter's cock rolling against his own erection, Draco decides to ignore the statement. After all, Potter has always been weird and Draco isn't going to give up this opportunity. 

With the kind of conviction only lust can bring, Draco grabs Potter and flips their positions, so Potter's back is against the wall. He pulls off Potter's shirt, dropping it to the floor, and sinks down to his knees. Leaning forward, Draco uses his teeth to pull open the front of Potter's denims, letting his hands gain a firm grip on Potter's ass. 

Above him, Potter throws his head against the wall with a thunk. "Merlin, you're so fucking hot. I've thought about this for years." He moves a hand to thread his fingers through Draco's hair. 

"Fuck off," Draco says, pulling back. "You don't get to touch my hair until you've earned it." Before him, Draco can see the wet spot form on Potter's light grey boxers, precum leaking out from Potter's cock at the statement. "Oh, you like that?" 

A knock on the door pulls them both sharply from the moment. Potter holds a finger to his lips, signaling for Draco to be quiet and they both listen. 

"Potter?" 

Draco hears his own voice come through the door. _What the fuck?_

"It's Draco. I'm here to speak with you," the voice says. 

Above him, Potter heaves a deep sigh. "Unbelievable," he says, tugging his jeans closed.

Draco stands cocking an eyebrow at Potter. "Who is that?" 

Potter lets out a bitter chuckle. "It's the real Malfoy. He has the worst timing. Just hang on, all right? I'll get rid of him."

Too confused to form a proper argument, Draco steps aside to let Potter open the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter will be posted this week!


	3. Save It Potter

Harry opens the door to find exactly what he expected. 

_Almost_. 

Before Harry there stands a tall, posh, blonde bloke with Malfoy's face. 

Only, the smirk is slightly too friendly. His eyes are soft grey, but lack the storm Harry usually finds there. His hair is blonde, a pale-blonde, but not quite as white as Draco's normally looks. His body, long and lean, is relaxed in a way Harry has never seen, with his right shoulder pressed against the door frame. 

"Hello, there," the blonde says. 

Harry blinks at him, tilting his head. "Er-" his heart stills, skipping a beat before it picks up again at double the pace. 

The blonde leans forward to brush his knuckles against Harry's bare chest. "Did you get started without me?" 

As his brain begins to catchup with the panicked response of his body, Harry chances a glance at the man next to him. The Malfoy next to him, the one Harry had pushed against the wall and kissed with eager, desperate, overdue, passion. The one he'd already told too much. The man he'd _thought_ was a rent boy. 

The eyes looking back at him are storm-grey paired with an all too familiar Malfoy smirk. 

_Holy fuck._ Harry thinks, as his stomach drops to the floor boards and all air leaves the room. 

Draco steps forward into Harry's personal space, revealing himself to the man in the hallway. 

"Oh, wow." The blonde's eyes go wide before he adds, "I was not expecting this." His eyes drop over Malfoy in a slow perusal, and he licks his lips before adding, "I mean, I'm down. Obviously."

Draco is still looking at Harry, just like he's been doing since they were eleven. His eyes dance with amusement at the statement but still he doesn't speak. 

Harry swallows hard through his dry throat and tries desperately to think of something _-anything-_ to say. 

The blonde, clueless to the _complete fucking breakdown_ Harry is experiencing, addresses Draco with another question. "Do you think I could ask you a few questions afterward? I'd really like to go over a few details."

Draco takes his eyes off of Harry and says, "What agency do you work for?" 

"Mr. Potter didn't tell you? I work for Gemini."

_Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod._

"Malfoy," Harry croaks out. He still can't seem to pull in enough air and he's starting to feel a bit light headed. "I didn't- it was a gift for-" 

Draco cuts him off. "Save it Potter." He reaches out and takes Harry's hand off the handle. Turning back to the blonde in the doorway. "You work for Blaise?" 

The man looks between them, seeming to finally notice the tension in the room. He casts a wary eye on Draco before nodding. "I do."

"Tell him I was here and I said he should pay you for services rendered." The door swings shut followed by a wandless locking charm. 

Harry backs up, reminding himself that he’s got nothing to worry about. He can take Malfoy if it comes to that. He just needs to remember how to breathe and everything will be fine. 

Draco turns slowly from the door to face him, but he doesn’t look angry. In fact, Harry sees the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “Potter, do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“It was a gift,” Harry says quickly, hoping that will help. 

Draco cocks an eyebrow, leaning back against the freshly closed door. 

“For my birthday,” Harry continues, letting the words tumble out. “Charlie Weasley set it up and told me how to activate it.” 

“I see,” Draco looks over Harry slowly, eyes lingering on the rapid jumping of his pulse point, his bare chest, and the hem of his jeans. “So you didn’t know it was supposed to be someone who looks like me? Is that why you jumped on me the second I walked into your office?”

Heat blooms across Harry’s chest, spreading up his neck. “I- no. I did- I knew.” 

“Would you prefer him? Is that why you didn’t ask me for dinner like a rational person?” 

"Wait. What?" 

Draco gives him an unimpressed look. 

"No," Harry says. "I wouldn't prefer him." 

"You realize I will never let you live this down, right?" Draco pushes off the door, stalking towards him.

Harry watches him closely, thinking about the way Draco had responded. How he had kissed back with biting passion, how he’d dropped to his knees and used his teeth to pull at Harry’s clothes. 

_Merlin, does he want this?_

The room snaps back into focus. His heartbeat is still thundering, but he finds he can breathe again. "Would you like to go to dinner?" he asks, as Draco's fingers grip his hips and push him back against the wall. 

"Fuck you Potter," Draco says, kissing Harry hard and breathless. His hands raking over every part of Harry's bare skin that he can touch. 

“Is that a yes?” Harry breathes out the words between kisses, holding Draco by his collar, keeping him close with the drag of teeth on Draco’s lower lip.

Draco hips roll, his erection pressing against Harry's. They both groan before Draco answers, "Were you planning to have that rentboy fuck you in here?" 

"Yes," Harry says, the word catching on a breath.

Draco hums in response, mouth biting lightly at Harry’s neck and then again, harder, on his collarbone. Harry keens, arching into the sharp edge of pain and pleasure. 

"Fuck, please," Harry says, surprised to hear the word come from his own mouth. 

He can feel Draco smile against his skin. “Listen to you beg, it’s music to my ears.” The sound of Draco’s posh voice, low and eager, sounds like pure sex. 

"Please," Harry says again, letting his voice break on the word. 

“I’m going to fuck you on that desk.” 

Through the haze of lust and panting, Harry's only able to manage one word, "Yeah?" 

Draco drags him over to the desk, stripping both of them along the way. Harry's thankful for that, his head is nowhere near clear enough to handle the row of buttons on Draco's shirt. 

Once Draco is topless, Harry can't think at all. The lean, pale, whipcord muscles, are all he can see. Tattoos start at Draco's shoulders and spill down his body, decorating his arms, his chest, and Harry suspects there are some on his back. 

"Focus, Potter," Draco said, pinching Harry's nipple. 

Harry's eyes snapped up from the artwork to meet Draco's. "How many do you have?"

"How long have you wanted me?" Draco counters. 

Harry blinks at him, feeling his cheeks heat. And honestly? He's surprised his body has enough blood left to blush. His cock is so hard he's worried he'll come without contact. 

Draco guides him onto the desk, pushing off paperwork and a mug full of pens as he lays Harry down. "How long, Potter?"

"It's not really an easy question to answer," Harry admits, pulling Draco towards him, seeking a kiss. 

"Tell me," Draco says, close enough to pant the words against Harry's lips. 

Harry nipped at Draco’s bottom lip before pleading, "Fuck me, I want you inside me." 

Draco’s body shivers at the words and he pushed his own erection against Harry’s. "Answer me."

"I- the first time I thought about it was in 5th year."

“And after that?” Draco asks between kisses, voice rough, with Harry's body thrusting up against him. He shifts his weight, pulling Harry's legs forward and standing above him. 

Harry thinks honesty might be his best bet here. "Pretty much non-stop since you started working here."

The smile Draco graces him with is worth it. Harry's never seen him so unguarded. “Put your legs up over my shoulders,” Draco says softly, guiding Harry into position. “That’s it.” 

Harry casts a protection charm over both of them right before Draco spells lube onto his fingers. He spreads Harry's ass and his smile turns feral. "Fuck you're hot." 

Draco pushes a finger into him with his right hand and strokes Harry’s cock at the same time with his left hand. By the time Draco puts in a second finger he's brushing up against Harry’s prostate with high level precision. 

“Please, please,” Harry whispers, pulling Draco down for another desperate kiss. “It’s enough. I’m ready.” 

Draco pushes him back down, “Are you worried you'll come all over me before I'm even inside you?”

"Yes!" 

Draco chuckles _-the prick-_ reaching between their bodies and Harry feels the head of his cock breach him. 

“You're doing so good. Fucking made for me." Draco's cock pushes into Harry’s body, stretching him open. His body firm and solid against the backs of Harry’s thighs, his shoulders steady behind Harry's knees.

Draco leans over him, using the hold he has under Harry’s knees to fold him back, pushing his cock deeper. Braced himself, he leans in, brushing their lips together in an almost chaste kiss before saying, "Want me to fuck you?"

Harry shudders. “Draco,” he pleads, leaning up to kiss him, to maon into his mouth, “Please, fuck, I need-”

“What?” Draco whispers back. “What do you need?”

Harry, shivering, mindless with it, said, “You. I need you.” He reaches down, a restless touch, gripping Draco’s ass, pulling him deeper.

Draco’s eyes are bright and clear, that lovely storm grey. “Harry,” he voice gentle, quiet. Then, Draco starts to _move_. Harry arches his back, moaning loudly as Draco thrusts into him with relentless, all-consuming passion. 

~~~

Harry collapses on the couch, freshly fucked, naked, and fully sated. Draco eyes him cooly. For a brief moment, Harry thinks he's going to leave, to run. Instead, Draco casts a _Scorgify_ on both of them before instructing Harry to make room.

They curl up on the couch sharing another languid kiss. 

"Blaise is doing a good job with his business," Draco says through a chuckle. "That guy looked surprisingly similar to me."

"I'm told he works exclusively as their Draco," Harry replies with a grin. "You must be in high demand."

“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to whoever plays your role.” 

Harry humms, getting distracted by the way Draco's elegant fingers are massaging his neck. “I hadn’t thought of that. I mean, I assumed they have someone who plays as me, or fucks as me, I suppose. But I hadn’t thought about who the person is in real life.” He grins at the idea and asks, “Do you think it’s someone I know?” 

“Would you give them tips if it were?” 

“No way,” Harry takes another swig from the bottle. “Anyone ordering the hero _Harry Potter_ isn’t interested in the kind of kinky shit I am.” 

Draco's grip strengthens and he pulls Harry into a possessive kiss. 

"Draco, will you go to dinner with me?" 

"Yes Harry, I will."

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on instagram! @dracostealsuit


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